Feelings Aren't Forever. Time Waits

What Does It Feel Like To Be Infected?" "i-- I Can't Describe It." I Force The Words Out. Can't Breathe, Can't Breathe, Can't Breathe. His Skin Smells Like Smoke From A Wood Fire, Like Soap, Like Heaven. I Imagine Tasting His Skin; I Imagine Biting His Lips. "i Want To Know." His Words Are A Whisper, Barely Audible. "i Want To Know With You.

Less Than A Month Ago All Of August Still Stretched Before Us - Long And Golden And Reassuring, Like An Endless Period Of Delicious Sleep.

There Is Only What You Want And What Happens. There Is Only Grabbing On And Holding Tight In The Darkness.

He Looked At Me Like I Was Beautiful.

I’ve Been Trying So Hard Not To Think His Name, Not To Even Breathe The Idea Of Him